P    S 
3157 

W95 

1892 

MAIN 


TIME 


riME  .||j> 


BOOK  OF  \rEESE 


Wife 


FROM   TIME   TO  TIME 

M'/H 


A    BOOK    OF    VERSE 


BY 
S.    W.    WEITZEL 


NEW  YORK 

ANSON    D.    F.    RANDOLPH 
&    COMPANY 

(INCORPORATED) 
182    FIFTH   AVENUE 


COPYRIGHT,  1892,  BY 

ANSON  D.  F.  RANDOLPH  &  COMPANY, 

(Incorporated). 


PRESS  OF 

EDWARD   O.  JENKINS'   SON, 
NEW   YORK. 


CONTENTS. 

PAGE 

NEW  FAITHS 5 

THE  PURITAN 6 

BROWNING 7 

MATTHEW  ARNOLD 8 

ALCHEMY 10 

THE  CROSS  BY  THE  WAYSIDE      .        .        .11 
THE  ANGEL'S  TARRYING-PLACE         .        .12 

THAT  QUIET  LIFE 15 

A  CLOUD  RIFT 16 

HOLY  INNOCENTS 17 

EASTER  EVEN      - 18 

LOVE'S  OPPORTUNITY 19 

THE  ANSWER  AND  THE  CALL     .        .        .21 

No  EVIL 23 

NOT  BY  SIGHT 25 

"  AND  BEING  BAPTIZED,  AND  PRAYING  "  .  27 

THE  STAR  AT  DAWN 28 

DAYBREAK 30 

JOY  IN  HEAVEN 31 

NATURE'S  SECRET 33 

LOST. — A  SORROW 36 


292090 


CONTENTS. 


PAGE 

ABOVE  THE  STORM 37 

"  WHO  HATH  EARS  TO  HEAR  "    .        .        .39 

JUDICA  ME,  DOMINE 42 

LAWS  AND  LAW 44 

"  WORK  TO-DAY  IN  MY  VINEYARD  "  .        .45 
FRITZ  VON  UHDE'S  PAINTING  IN  THE  NA 
TIONAL  GALLERY  AT  BERLIN,  ("  Komm, 
Herr  Jesu,  sei  unser  Gast,")     .  -47 

BLIND  GENTIAN  ANSWERS  QUESTIONS      .     50 
IN  A  FEBRUARY  GARDEN.    CALIFORNIA   .     53 

THE  CLOCK  SAYS  IT 55 

LOOKING  BACK 56 

GIVEN  IN  SLEEP     .        .        .        .        .        .57 

FROM  ONE  WHO  WENT  AWAY  IN  HASTE    .    62 
FOREVER 63 


NEW    FAITHS. 

NEW  ? — so,  O   Lord,  Thy  tender  mercies 

are, 
So  freshly  blooms  in  heaven  each  evening's 

star  ; 

New, — yet  from  everlasting  Truth  is  true, 
Ever  of  old  the  wise  Thy  wisdom  knew. 

Newly  man's  plummet  sounds  the  gracious 

deeps, 
Clearer   his    eye   may   catch   the  glorious 

steeps, — 

'Tis  the  same  mountain-top  serene  above, 
The  same  still  ocean  of  eternal  Love. 


THE    PURITAN. 


THE    PURITAN. 

NARROW,  'tis  true,  yet  deep  and  high  ; 
His  bounded  vision  climbed  the  sky. 
Scant  was  the  heaven  above  his  head  ? — 
That  straitened  space  he  keenly  read. 

Not  the  far  galaxy's  expanse 
Caught  reaching  thought  or  roving  glance 
On  some  great  stars  he  fixed  his  gaze, 
By  them  he  guided  words  and  ways. 

The  walls  that  closed  his  nature  round 
Were  mountains  set  in  solid  ground. 
Convictions  rock-like,  stern,  assured, 
Not  misty  doubts  his  view  obscured. 


STUDIES   FOR  TWO   PORTRAITS.          7 


STUDIES  FOR  TWO  PORTRAITS. 
I. 

ROBERT   BROWNING. 

A  man  of  strength,  whose  noble  word  of 

cheer 
Rings  true  as  cymbal  of  the  fire-tried 

gold; 
Who  sings  no  song  but  makes  the  spirit 

bold; 

Unflinching  optimist,  and  dumb  to  fear  ! 
Seek  not  to  know,  he  says,  but  struggle 

here 
In  manful  faith,  and  with  the  world  grow 

old, 
And  learn  the  truth  that  year  to  year 

hath  told, 
And  dying  learn  it  all,  gain  vision  clear. 


8          STUDIES   FOR   TWO    PORTRAITS. 

Yet  never  comes  misgiving  faith  to  rout  ? 
Aye,  who  so  rich  but  knows  some  treas 
ure  lost  ? 
So  high  but  scaled  the  hight  from  deeps 

immense  ? 

He  gives  no  word  to  question  or  to  doubt ; 
Against   a  weakling  world    he    holds    his 

trust, 
And  takes  the  kingdom  as  by  violence. 


II. 


MATTHEW   ARNOLD. 

A  man  of  truth  whose  careful  soul  hath 

wrought 

To  keep  the  path  through  tangled,  joy 
less  wild, 
Dim  scene  with  cross  lights  vexed  and 

snares  beguiled  ; 
Nor  certitude,  nor  place,  but  honor  fraught 


STUDIES   FOR   TWO    PORTRAITS.          9 

With  honor's  satisfaction.    Bold  in  naught, 
Yet  brave  with  lofty  braveness  ;  as  some 

child 

Obedient  took  his  burden  up,  nor  smiled 
Nor  wept,  but  bore.    No  prayer  he  offered, 

sought 

No  good  for  self  lest  self  should  baffle  it. 
No  title  his  to  faith's  sublime  repose, 
But  toil,  though  purposeless,  is  good,  he 

said, 

And  blindfold  toiled.     Then  meek,  in  si 
lence  fit, 

Stepped  swiftly  in  where  Truth  fresh  as 
pect  shows. 

"  Life's  old,  death's  new."    What  knowl 
edge  waits  him  dead  ? 


10  ALCHEMY. 


ALCHEMY. 

'TWAS   but    a   murky    drop, — the    legend 
told,— 

A  human  tear. 

The  elements  wrought,  Time's  forces  mani 
fold  ;- 

A  gem  is  here, 

Flashing  with   hints   of   sunset   rose   and 
gold, 

And  crystal  clear. 


THE   CROSS   BY   THE   WAYSIDE.         I  I 


THE  CROSS  BY  THE  WAYSIDE. 

IT  falls  along  the  dusty  way 
Where  pleasure's  pilgrims  day  by  day, 
And  weary  toilers  grave  and  slow, 
And  merry  little  children  go,— 
The  shadow  of  the  cross  ! 

We  know  not,  but  Thou,  Lord,  dost  know 
How  oft  the  burdens  lighter  grow, 
How  sweet  thoughts  to  the  children  come, 
And  to  the  traveler  thoughts  of  Home 
At  sight  of  Thy  dear  cross. 

Nature,  more  true  than  we  can  be, 
Has  daily  some  fresh  gift  for  Thee  ; 
In  summer  nestling  harebells  grow, 
In  winter  wreaths  of  fairest  snow 
Adorn  Thy  blessed  cross. 


12       THE   ANGELS   TARRYING-PLACE. 


THE  ANGEL'S  TARRYING-PLACE. 

AN   angel,   it  was    whispered,   had    come 

down 
When  morning  blossomed  o'er  the  sleeping 

town, 
With  gifts  from  heaven  man's  irksome  life 

to  bless, — 

Joys  to  make  richer,  sorrows  to  redress, — 
If   one    the    spirit's  tarrying-place    might 

guess. 

If  one  might  find  him,  what  a  boon  were 

here ! 
Wine  of  high  courage  flagging  souls  to 

cheer, 
Faith  with  bright  promise  waiting  hearts 

to  stay, 


THE   ANGELS   TARRYING-PLACE.        13 

Love  to  bear  burdens  and  beguile  the  way, 
Peace  to  crown  all  as  evening  crowns  the 
day. 

I  wandered  forth  to  seek  the  blessed  guest. 
Where  would   he  fold  his  pinions  bright, 

and  rest  ? 

Along  the  busy  streets  his  face  I  sought, 
Amid  the  hurrying  scenes  where  commerce 

wrought ; 
Not  once  the   gleaming   of   his   wings    I 

caught. 

Rather  he'll  dwell  upon  the  hills,  I  said, 
Upon  whose  brow  the  sky's  full  grace  is 

shed, 

In  far  sought  cave,  or  by  the  river's  flow, 
Where  free  winds  wander  -and  the  spring 

flowers  blow  ; — 
But  all  the   sweet,  wild  voices  answered, 

No. 


H     THE  ANGEL'S  TARRYING-PLACE. 

Then  last,  in  weariness,  the  day  far  spent, 
Beneath  the  evening  star  I  homeward  went. 
Vain  all  my  patient  search.  My  heart  was 

sore, 
Long   had    I    sought,    and    wide.     What 

could  I  more? — 
I  found  the  angel  at  my  own  closed  door. 

Ah,  he,art,  for  blessedness  look  not  afar ! 
Where    duty's  joys,  where    duty's   labors 

are, 

In  homely  paths,  in  quiet  nooks  it  hides, 
WTith  lowly  souls  and  home-keeping  abides, 
And  folds  its  white  wings  at  our  own  fire 
sides. 


THAT   QUIET   LIFE,  15 


THAT   QUIET    LIFE. 

LORD,  oft  I  think  what  I  would  do,— 
How  far  and  wide  Thy  glory  show, 
How  by  my  touch  the  world  I'd  move, 
How  by  my  word  the  truth  I'd  prove,— 
And  mourn  my  hand  can  grasp  no  more, 
And  mourn  my  voice  of  little  power. 
Then  comes  a  thought — a  greater  thought, 
Of  a  still  work  that  once  was  wrought, 
A  noiseless  step,  a  gentle  touch, 
A  fame  that  moved  the  world  not  much  ; 
Only  a  few  those  hands  could  reach, 
Only  a  few  those  lips  could  teach  ;— 
A  sweet  rebuke  that  life  to  me, 
That  quiet  life  in  Galilee. 


l6  A    CLOUD    RIFT. 


A    CLOUD    RIFT. 

I  LOOKED  upon  my  little  grave,  all  green, 

Rounded  with  tender  care,  and  blossom 
ing 

With  happy  promises  of  earthly  spring  ; 
I   whispered,  "  Here    she    sleeps." — Then 

on  the  scene 
A  gleam  of  softer,  brighter  radiance  fell, 

A  messenger — an  angel — came  to  me  ; 

"  Ah,  look,"  he  said.     "  Lift   up   thine 

eyes  and  see." 

I  saw  that  busy  place  where  spirits  dwell, 
I  saw  the  children  run  to  do  His  will, 

Swift,  happy  service  ! — sweet  activity  ! 
I  saw — I  saw  her  by  the  angel's  side, 
I  smiled  upon  her.     I  was  satisfied. 

Ah  me  !  the  gleam,  the  brighter  light  was 

gone. 
I  saw  again  the  little  grave  alone. 


HOLY   INNOCENTS.  I/ 


HOLY    INNOCENTS. 

On  !  little  hearts  forever  innocent, 

Warm  with  earth's  love,  from  all  earth's 

soiling  clear, 

Bless  God  that — here  your  lovingness  not 
spent — 

Ye  now  love  there  ! 

Oh  !  little  voices  sweet  with  earthly  tone 
Yet  pure  with  heavenly, — faint  to  our 

dull  ear, 

Bless  God  ye  joined  a  moment  in  our  song, 
And  now  praise  there  ! 

Oh !   little   white  wings,   reverent   and   at 

rest, 

Folded  before  His  face  in  happy  fear, 
Bless   God  ye   nestled   once   on   mother's 
breast, 

And  now  pause  there  ! 


1 8  EASTER   EVEN. 


EASTER    EVEN. 

"  And  they  returned  and  prepared  spices  and  oint 
ments,  and  rested  the  seventh  day  according  to  the 
commandment. " 

THE  Lord  of  Life  lies  dead  ; 

High  heaven  is  hung  with  gloom  ; 
Yet  to  their  simple,  wifely  task 

They  turn  them  from  His  tomb. 

The  spikenard  and  the  myrrh 
Their  tender  hands  prepare,— 

Tender  with  grief  and  deft  with  love- 
Then  meekly  close  in  prayer. 

Our  dearest  hope  lies  low  ; 

From  life  fades  out  its  best  ; 
Love  still  may  find  sweet  work  to  do, 

Faith  still  find  Sabbath  rest. 


LOVE'S   OPPORTUNITY.  19 


LOVE'S    OPPORTUNITY. 

EARLY  they  came,  yet  they  were  come  too 

late. 

The  tomb  was  empty  ;  in  the  misty  dawn 
Angels   sat  watching,   but   the   Lord  was 

gone. 
Beyond  earth's  clouded  daybreak  far  was 

He, 

Beyond  the  need  of  their  sad  ministry  ; 
Regretful  stood  the  three,  with  doubtful 

breast, 
Their   gifts    unneeded   and   in   vain   their 

quest. 


The  spices — were  they  wasted  ?     Legend 

saith 
That,  flung  abroad  on  April's  gentle  breath, 


20  LOVE'S   OPPORTUNITY. 

They  course  the  earth,  and  evermore  again 
In  Spring's  sweet  odors  they  come  back 

to  men. 
The  tender  thought  ?     Be  sure  He  held  it 

dear  ; 
He  came  to  them  with  words  of  highest 

cheer, 
And  mighty  joy  expelled  their  hearts'  brief 

fear. 

Yet  happier  that  morning — happier  yet — 
I  count  that  other  woman  in  her  home 
Whose   feet   impatient   all  too    soon   had 

come, 

Who  ventured  chill  disfavor  at  the  feast, 
'Mid  critics'  murmur  sought  that  lowliest 

Guest, 
Broke   her   rare  vase,  its   fragrant  wealth 

outpoured, 
And  gave  her  gift  aforchand  to  her  Lord. 


THE  ANSWER  AND  THE  CALL.    21 


THE  ANSWER  AND  THE  CALL. 

"  And  it  shall  come  to  pass  that  before  they  call  I 
will  answer." 

BEFORE  love  calls  love  answers.    So  Love 

says. 
For  love  divines.     Have  we   not  proved 

it  so? 
The  hurt  that  these  our  neighbors  cannot 

know 

Being  indifferent,  he  our  friend  will  guess, 
His   glance   made   keen   by  Love's   clear 
sightedness, 
And  all   our  wound  he  sees,  and  all  our 

woe, 

Before  we  call  and  this  our  dolor  show, 
And  ask  his  tender  touch  to  heal  and 

bless. 
And  more  is  true  ;  the  hurt  we  proudly 

hide 
From  careless  gaze,  to  this  beloved  one — > 


22    THE  ANSWER  AND  THE  CALL. 

The  secret  hurt  already  we  confide 

In  that  we  love.     Love  ever  cries  and 

calls  ; 
Love    supplicates.     And    clamorous   love 

alone 

Can   hear  love's  ceaseless  answer  as  it 
falls. 


NO   EVIL.  23 


NO    EVIL. 

"  There  shall  no  evil  befall  thee;  neither  shall  any 
plague  come  near  thy  dwelling." 

No  evil  ?  yet  behold  how  tempest-tossed  ! 
Storms   beat   unhindered   on   the  good 

man's  head, 
Heaven's  lightnings  shatter,  or  the  early 

frost 

Falls  on  the  flower  he  loved  and  leaves 
it  dead. 

No  evil  ? — in  a  world  where  sorrow  sits 
Vigilant,  jealous  ;  where  a  sorrow  flits 
Darkling  beside  each  shape  of  happiness  ? 
Oh,  truth  most  literal  !  deep  with  tender- 


24  NO    EVIL. 


Oh,  wondrous  transmutation !  In  His 
hand, 

His  hand  who  gives,  by  His  supreme  com 
mand, 

The  clay  is  turned  to  gold,  the  ill  to  good. 
The  lightning  is   His  messenger ;   His 

frost 
Chills    not    the    root  ;    who    knows   God's 

fatherhood, 

Knows  he  rides  safe,  however  tempest- 
tossed. 


NOT   BY   SIGHT.  2$ 


NOT    BY   SIGHT. 

LIGHT   of  the   darkness  !     Love   towards 

Whom  we  grope 
With  ignorant  steps,  if  haply  we  may 

find- 
Through  mists  of  doubt,  miasmas  of  the 

mind, — 
Once  found,  a  steadfast,  sure,  eternal  hope  ! 

No  glory  pierced  my  blindness,  nay,  nor 

grace, 

Charmed  by  no  vision  of  Thy  blessed  face 
I  came.  Sight  were  but  distant  ken,  but,  lo, 
Thy  touch  hath  reached  me  in  the  dark.  I 

know. 


26  NOT   BY   SIGHT. 

Thy  hand  hath  drawn.     Tis  not  that   I 

did  go, 
I  stand, — upon  the  rock.     Men  call  this 

faith  ? 

'Tis  keener  knowledge,  verity  that  hath 
No  blur  of  sense.     It   is  the  blind  who 
know. 


AND   BEING   BAPTIZED,"  ETC.         2/ 


"AND    BEING    BAPTIZED,    AND 
PRAYING." 

BENEATH  the  sky,  upon  the  river's  brim, 
The  fitful  multitudes  awaiting  Him, 

A  world  that  questioned,  and  the  full- 
charged  air 
Vibrant  with  murmurings,  Lo  here  ! — 

Lo  there  ! 
What  recked  it  all  ?— He  looked,  O  God, 

to  Thee. 

Still  heaven  is  open  ;  to  thine  own  to 
day, 

Standing  with  Him,  though  all  unworthily, 
The  answer  cometh  swiftly  when  they 

pray  ;- 
The   dove   of  peace  that   lighteth  gently 

down, 
The  secret  whisper,  Thou,  too,  art  my  son. 


28  THE    STAR   AT   DAWN. 


THE    STAR   AT    DAWN. 

A  STEALING  glory,  still,  intent  and  sure, 
And  one  fair  star  left  on  the  flushing 

sky  ; 

(Jt  is  a  time  of  birth,  an  opening  door, 
A  moment  full  of  possibility  ; 
None  knows  how  great  a  thing  this  day 
may  see.) 

'Twas  night  that  lit  that  fair  star,  dark- 
browed  night, 
And  still  it  burns,  paled  but  before  the 

sun. 
Pure   through    the   darkness    beamed    its 

steadfast  light, 
When   sunshine   conquers   shade,  when 

night  is  gone, 
Its  tender  radiance  to  the  day  is  won. 


THE   STAR  AT   DAWN.  29 

So  thou,  dear  grace  of  patience,  in  the  soul 
Dost  keep  brave  vigil  through  the  shad 
owed  hour  ; 
Joy  comes, — the  morning!  swift  the  mists 

unroll  ; 
The  full  day  dawns,  thy  faithful  watch 

is  o'er  ; 

Not  that  thy  light  is  less,  but  heaven's 
is  more. 


30         "ENTERED   INTO   LIFE,"   ETC. 


"ENTERED    INTO    LIFE—AT 
DAYBREAK." 

THE  pale  moon  hangs  upon  the  sky, 
A  useless  lamp,  for  day  is  nigh  ; 
The  stars  go  out  with  fitful  flare, 
The  morn's  bold  wing  is  on  the  air. 

Ah  !  welcomer  than  softest  rest 
Deep  folded  to  the  night's  cool  breast 
The  stir  of  life,  the  laden  hour, 
The  waiting  task,  the  bounding  power. 

The  dawn's  gray  quivers  with  the  light. 
Farewell  to  thee,  farewell,  sweet  night  ! 
I  loved  thee  well,  thy  dreams  were  fair,- 
Farewell  to  thee, — the  Day  is  here  ! 


JOY   IN   HEAVEN.  31 


JOY   IN    HEAVEN. 

THE  silly  lamb  deceived  by  foe's  decoy 

Abroad  to  roam, 

With  thankful  bleat  returns  its  rescuer's 
cry 

When  night  is  come  ; 
But  greater  is  the  tender  shepherd's  joy 

Who  bears  it  home. 

The  child  who  wanders  from  its  father's 
side, 

And  strays  away, 
In  helpless  freedom  o'er  the  meadows  wide 

Alone  to  play 

Comes   joyful    back,    that    father   for   his 
guide, 

At  fall  of  day. 


32  JOY   IN   HEAVEN. 

Freed  now  the  little  feet  from  weary  smart, 

From  danger's  net, 

Content,  and  fain  with  childhood's  happy 
art, 

Grief  to  forget  ; 

Yet  think  you  not  the  seeking  father's 
heart 

Is  happier  yet  ? 

Ah,  joy  ! — such  joy  as  our  dull   childish 
sense 

Is  slow  to  guess  ; 

And  think  thee,  Soul,  thou  dost  that  joy 
dispense, 

Or  make  it  less, 

Thy  little  deed  may  swell  that  sea  immense, 
Heaven's  happiness  ! 


NATURE  S   SECRET.  33 


NATURE'S    SECRET. 

BRAVE  deeds  and  noble  man  had  done, 
Fair  fame  and  high  achievement  won 

And  earned  a  just  renown  ; 
"  I'll  build  me  monuments,"  he  said, 
u  Temples  and  tombs  shall  raise  their  head 

When  I  to  dust  am  gone. 

Chance,  change  and  death  I  here  defy  ; 
Though  low  this  scheming  head  must  lie, 

Art  liveth  long  and  sure. 
Time  shall  not  quite  rny  name  efface, 
And  wondering  age  to  wondering  age 

Shall  see  my  work  endure." 

Then  Nature  smiled  a  royal  smile  ; 

She  saw  his  columns  rise  the  while, 

She  knew  her  secret  well. 


34  NATURE'S  SECRET. 

And,  "  Know,  O  man,"  she  said,  "the  day 
That  finds  your  trophies  old  and  gray 
Shall  see  me  blooming  still." 

The  eternal  hills  are  ever  young, 

The  arched  halls  where  stars  are  hung — 

The  ancient  heavens — are  new. 
Fresh  laughs  the  sea,  fresh  gleams  the  sky, 
The  trooping  flowers  come  smiling  by  ; 

(Canst  guess  my  secret's  clue  ?) 

I  yield  to  chance,  to  change,  to  death  ; 
Time  touches  me  with  fatal  breath, 

I  shrink  not,  nor  defy. 
The  years  write  wrinkles  on  my  face, 
New  every  morning  wakes  my  grace, 

Fresh  flows  the  stream's  supply. 

The  oak  tree  falls,  the  acorn  springs, 
The  fair  flower  dies,  its  seed  hath  wings 
And  groweth  up  anon. 


NATURE'S  SECRET.  35 

Mountains  may  rend  ;  in  hidden  caves 
The  patient  drop  the  gravel  laves 
And  forms  another  stone. 

Who  bows  to  chance  new  chance  shall  find  ; 
Resist  not  death,  for  Life's  behind 

And  richer  treasure  bears. 
Life  ever  lives  ;  let  night  creep  on, 
So  swifter  circles  round  the  sun, 

And  brings  sweet  morning's  airs. 


36  LOST. — A   SORROW. 


* 

LOST.— A    SORROW. 

I  HAD  a  grief — ah,  me  !  a  tender  thing, 
Quivering  and  helpless,  pierced  with  smart 

and  sting. 

Apart  and  sacred,  safe  from  Joy's  alarm, 
I  held  it  in  my  bosom  close  and  warm. 

Suns  rose  and  stars  ;  above  my  drooping 

head 
Life's  wide  benignant  courses  kept  their 

tread. 
My    grief    rose    softly — 'twas    a    day    of 

Spring, — 
And  flew  away  all  on  a  silver  wing. 


ABOVE   THE   STORM.  37 


ABOVE   THE    STORM.* 

I  SAW  black  sorrow  coming, — from  the  sky, 

Upon  the  smiling  land,  the  summer  sea, 

Its  shadow  sweeping,  as  some  bird  sweeps 

by, 

Of  huge,  dun  wing,  of  fearful  augury, 
Of  leaden  flight  above  the  homes  of  men, — 
Where  will   it   stay  its   pinion   dark,  and 

when  ? — 

So  came  that  shadow  from  the  summer 
sky. 

Soul,  we  will  meet  it  bravely,  then  I  said. 

This  blackness  moving  swifter  now  along, 
Gathering  with  thunder's  mutter  overhead, 

Shall  find  us  unsurprised,  shall  find  us 
strong. 

*  Suggested   by  the  incident   in  Agassiz's   youth, 
which  so  deeply  impressed  his  mind. 


38  ABOVE   THE   STORM. 

Forward  we'll  journey  up  the  mountain 

side, 

Breast  its  full  fury,  all  its  wrath  outbide, 
Then  on,  and  freelier  breathe  when  it  is 
sped. 

Up  to  the  mountain  gat  my  soul  and  I, — 
Mountain  of  God.     And  upward  as  we 

went, 
Bowed  for  the  storm,  with  laggard-lifted 

eye, 

Sudden,  behold,  a  fleckless  firmament ! 
Here  sit  we  on  the  hight  'neath  sapphire 

clear, 

The  fair  sun  sinks,  the  early  stars  appear, 
And  loud  beneath  our  feet  the  storm 
sweeps  by. 


WHO    HATH   EARS   TO    HEAR.          39 


"WHO  HATH   EARS  TO  HEAR." 

SILENCE. —  I  pierce  the  heavens  with  my 
cry, 

I  wait,  I  listen.     Who  will  make  reply  ? 

I  call,  I  question.  Comes  nor  voice  nor 
sound. 

The  mountains  rise  in  silence  calm,  pro 
found, 

The  heaving  sea  uplifts  its  troubled  breast 

And  tells  no  tale,  but  moans  a  deep  unrest ; 

The  stars  shine  still  and  cold,  unmoved, 
remote, 

Silent  they  thread  their  maze,  and  answer 
not. 

Is  earth's  ear  heavy  ? — or  is  heaven's  un 
bent  ? 

Father  !    Life-giver  !    What  is  Thy  intent 


40        "WHO    HATH   EARS   TO    HEAR." 

In  this  Thy  gift  ?     What  fruit  so  rich,  so 

sweet, 

Lies  hidden  here,  or  what  allotment  meet 
For   such   a  thing  as   I   that   Thou    hast 

made  ? — 

A  soul, — all  hope  and  possibility  ? 
Breathless  I  listen.    Still  are  earth  and  sea, 
And  the  far  sky  smiles  silent  overhead. 


Upon  a  day  I  saw  one  sit  and  sigh, 
I  saw  one  sit  amid  divinest  sound  ; 
Fine  harmonies  and  subtle  wrapped  him 

round 
Yet  trembled  not  his  lip,  nor  flashed  his 

eye. 

Only  his  hungry  gaze  looked  ever  forth, 
His  painful  brow  bent  ever  emptily  ; 
He    sat    unmoved,    nor    faintest    breath 

caught  he, 
Nor  thunder's  roll,  nor  twittering  linnet's 

mirth, 


"WHO    HATH   EARS   TO    HEAR."       41 

For  he  was  deaf.    The  noise  of  battle  near, 
The  roar  of  mortal  war  had  filled  his  ear, 
And  nevermore  he  heard.     Ah,  thought  I 

then, 

Is  it  perhaps  that  thus  it  is  with  men  ? 
Is  it  perhaps  that  thus  it  is  with  me? 
Not  heaven  is  silent,  but  my  ear  is  dull. 
Not  heaven  is  silent ;  rich  perhaps  and  full 
The  music  swells ;  it  is  as  naught  to  me. 
Not  false  nor  faint  upon  the  quickened  ear 
The  voices  fall  of  earth  and  sea  and  sky, 
But,  ah  !  the  world's  wild  voices  ever  nigh 
Have  dulled  the  heavenward  sense.     I  do 

not  hear. 


42  JUDICA   ME,   DOMINE. 


JUDICA    ME,    DOMINE. 

BE  Thou  my  Judge,  O  God  ! 
Thy  justice,  sweeter  than  man's  tenderness, 
And    keener    sighted,  counts    the   sin  no 

less, 
Yet  bears  a  healing  none  would   dare  to 

guess. 

Thou  knowest  altogether  :  deep  within 
Thou  seest  the  sorrow  latent  in  the  sin, 
The  foul  black  spot   I  weakly  wish  were 
clean, 

O  Thou,  my  Judge,  my  God  ! 

Black  is  its  blackness  ;  better  far  than  I 
Thou  knowest  that  foulness  ;  and  in  Thy 

pure  eye 

No  guilty  thing  may  live.    Still,  still  I  cry, 
Be  Thou  my  Judge,  O  God  ! 


JUDICA   ME,    DOMINE.  43 

Sin  cannot  live,  but  Thou,  my  Judge,  my 

God, 

Alone  among  the  judges,  by  Thy  word, 
Canst  slay  the  sin,  and  bring  to  true  accord, 
My  soul  and  Thine,  great  God  ! 

My  weak  will  and  Thy  strong  ; — O  only 

Just! 
Eternal  Truth  must  stamp  e'en  worthless 

dust, 
Right  must  needs  help  make  right  !     Be 

Thou  my  trust, 

Be  Thou  my  Judge,  O  God  ! 


44  LAWS  AND    LAW. 


LAWS   AND    LAW. 

MIGHTY  man's  will,  and  sweeps  a  world 
wide  arc  ; 
Great  Nature's  arm  swings  free  in  Titan 

curve ; 

Holding  them  both,  with  tense  and  tire 
less  nerve, 
Eternal  Love  moves  onward  to  its  mark. 


WORK   TO-DAY   IN   MY   VINEYARD.     45 


"WORK    TO-DAY    IN    MY 
VINEYARD." 

WHERE  is  Thy  vineyard,  Lord  of  love  ? 
Thy  fields  stretch  far  beneath  the  sky,— 
Swept  by  all  heavenly  winds  they  lie, 

And    heaven's    light    floods    them    from 
above. 

Where  is  Thy  vineyard  ?  Here  am  I, 
Hither  Thy  grace  hath  led  my  way  ; 
Lord,  I  will  go,  nor  ask  to  stay  ; 

I  wait  to  hear  Thy  mandate  high. 

I  wait  to  hear  the  trumpet-blast ; 

Forth  to  some  deed  of  noble  name  ! 

With  nerve  of  steel,  with  heart  of  flame, 
I'll  join  the  struggle's  glorious  haste. 


46  "  WORK   TO-DAY   IN   MY  VINEYARD." 

Is  this  the  trumpet  ? — this  sweet  voice — 
Low,  sweet,  and  still  within  my  heart  ? 
This  love,  of  life  itself  a  part  ? 

This  symphony  of  earth's  best  joys  ? 

Is  this  Thy  vineyard  ? — this  dear  home 
Where  day  by  day  the  old  sun  shines 
Upon  the  old  hill's  rounded  lines, 

And  stars  I  know  gild  night's  blue  dome  ? 

Is  Thy  vineyard  ?     Is  it  mine 

To  cull  the  fruit  for  those  I  love  ? 
Among  my  chosen-ones  to  move, 

And  fill  their  cup  with  life's  rich  wine  ? 

Is  this  Thy  mandate  ?     Happy  I ! 

To  serve  the  dearest  Thou  hast  given  ! 

Oh,  tender  plan  conceived  in  heaven ! 
How  should  my  soul  with  joy  comply  ! 

Lord  of  the  vineyard,  this  I  ask — 
Nearest  of  all  that  Thou  wilt  stand, 
Dearest  of  tones  be  Thy  command, 

And  best  reward  the  lowliest  task. 


FRITZ  VON  UHDE'S  PAINTING.      47 


FRITZ  VON  UHDE'S  PAINTING 
IN  THE  NATIONAL  GALLERY 
AT  BERLIN. 

"  Komm,  Herr  Jesu,  sei  unser  Gast." 

BRIGHT  noonday  sunshine  floods  the  floor, 
Wide  open  stands  the  humble  door, 
The  simple  meal  is  neatly  spread, 
The  child  has  bowed  her  golden  head, 
And  reverent  grace  has  gravely  said. 

And  he  is  come  !  the  guest  she  asked  : 
A  traveler,  weary,  overtasked, 
A  toiler,  from  noon's  dust  and  glare, 
A  king,  of  features  strangely  fair, 
A  willing  friend  their  feast  to  share. 

Ah,  much  is  writ  upon  that  face  ! 
"  I  come  because  you  give  me  place, 


48      FRITZ  VON  UHDE'S  PAINTING. 

Gladly  I  take  the  waiting  seat, 
Grateful  the  poor  man's  bread  I  eat, 
And  what  I  bring  you — who  can  mete  ? ' 

And  on  the  faces  gathered  round 
Sit  love  untold  and  joy  profound. 
"  O,  friend  divine,"  the  elders  say, 
"  Afar  we've  seen  thee  on  our  way, 
Stay  with  us  now,— forever  stay  !  " 

They  worship,  yet  are  not  afraid, 
Father  and  mother — little  maid — 
No  terror  in  the  childish  eyes, 
No  hint  of  awe  or  mysteries, 
But  trusting  love  and  sweet  surprise. 

And  as  the  homely  feast  goes  on, 
By  that  blest  presence  shone  upon, 
No  pleasant  jesting  feels  restraint, 
No  blame  finds  word,  no  scandal's  taint, 
No  selfish  gladness,  weak  complaint, 


FRITZ  VON  UHDE'S  PAINTING.      49 


"  Oh,  come,  Lord  Jesus,  be  our  guest." 
Such  is  the  child-like  heart's  request, 
And,  see,  He  lends  a  willing  ear. 
How  sweet  the  talk,  how  rich  the  cheer, 
Were  this  dear  guest  forever  here  ! 


50  BLIND   GENTIAN. 


BLIND    GENTIAN   ANSWERS 
QUESTIONS. 

NOT  for  my  sins,  dear  poet,  am  I  blind, 
But  long  ago — have  you  not  heard  the 

story  ? — 
My  grandsire  trespassed,  (here  the  record 

find) 

And  robbed  his  offspring  of  our  race's 
glory. 

They  dwelt — my  fathers — on  this  breezy 

hill, 

All  in  the  brilliant  late  October  weather; 
Fair  stood   their  ranks,  as  you   may  see 

them  still, 

Beneath    heaven's    sapphire    clustered 
close  together. 


BLIND    GENTIAN.  51 

And    round    the    happy    spot    the    fairies 

played, 

Coming  in  secret  under  nightfall's  cover, 
Or  hurrying  home,  by  kindly  act  delayed, 
As    morning   softly    crept    the    hillside 
over. 


Late,  late  one  night — the  east  was  grow 
ing  red — 

A  tardy  fay  the  last  of  all  was  numbered  ; 
(All  night  he'd  watched  beside  a  baby's 

bed, 

And  kept   it   happy  while   the   mother 
slumbered.) 

Thirsty  and  tired  the  fairy  hither  flew. 
"  Dear  flower,"  he  said,  "  I'll  stop  with 

you  a  minute, 

Give  me,  I  pray,  a  sip  of  fresh-fall'n  dew — 
How  bright  it  looks  with  day's  first  sun 
beam  in  it !  " 


52  BLIND   GENTIAN. 

Here  sinned  my  grandsire.    Heaven's  hap 
piest  law 

He  quite  forgot,  and  chanty's  pure  pleas 
ure. 

With  careless  heart  another's  need  he  saw, 
Nor  oped  his  cup  to  share  its  crystal 
treasure. 

And  since  that  day,  the  country  people  tell, 
One  half  the  gentians  grow  with  fast- 
closed  chalice  ; 
Not  theirs  to  drink  the  dew  they  love  so 

well, 

Not  theirs  to  see  the   sun-god   in   his 
palace. 

Shadow    of    sin  !      Yet    sunshine    filters 

through, 
And  fills  my  cup,  and   lends   an   inner 

glory, 

And  poets  guess  my  secret  heart  is  true  ; — 
Some  brighter  morning  may  reverse  the 
story ! 


IN   A   FEBRUARY   GARDEN.  53 


IN    A   FEBRUARY    GARDEN. 
CALIFORNIA. 

A  BREEZE,  a  brightness,   branches  over 
head, 
One  near,  (else,  Sweet,  what  would  the 

garden  be  ?) 

A  troop  of  poppies,  sunflower,  peony, 
And    motley    phloxes    to    the    sunshine 

spread  ; 
Beneath  her  window  wall-flower  lifts  its 

head, — 
The  goodly  wall-flower  Bacon  liked  to 

see — 

Its  bright  fires  burning  soft  and  smokily, 
Its  breath  condensed  richness,  richly  fed 
By  earth,  by  sunshine,   and    the   plen 
teous  showers. 


54  IN   A   FEBRUARY   GARDEN. 

Here  lilies  fail  not,  nor  the  affluent  rose, 
Here  evening  primrose  counts  the  golden 

hours, 
Here  sweetly,  like  the  thought  of  one 

most  dear, 
The  breath  of  violets  comes  and  gently 

goes 
And  comes  again,  and  savors  all  the  air. 


THE   CLOCK   SAYS   IT.  55 


THE   CLOCK    SAYS    IT. 

NIGHT  ;  and  the  clock  ticks  on, 
The  world  is  still,  and  the  stars  look  down. 
The  clock  ticks  light,  the  heart  beats 

low, 

Nor  stir  nor  sound  ;  the  wind's  asleep  : 
The  stars  o'er  the  black  sky  silent  creep 
And  silent  drop  'neath  the  black  hill's 

brow. 
The  clock  and  the  heart  beat  on,  beat  on. 

There'll  come  a  night  when  the  stars  look 

down, 
When   the  world's   asleep,  and   the  stars 

creep  on, 

Creep  silent  past,  and  drop  'neath  the  hill, 
And  the  clock  will  stop,  and  the  heart  be 

still. 


56  LOOKING   BACK. 


LOOKING   BACK. 

HlLLS  of  the  past,  lying  in  tender  light, 
How  shall   I   speak  the  thoughts  that 

rise  in  me 
As  backward  turning  now  your  slopes 

I  see? 
Soft    lie  your   shadows,  and    the    rugged 

hight 
That  tore  my  feet  is  bathed  in  sunny 

rest. 
Your  paths  were  rough  as  on  I  panting 

pressed, 

Oft,  oft  I  stumbled,  oft  I  lost  the  way  ; 
Peaceful   lies   all   in    memory's   chastened 

ray, 
Fair  rise  your  peaks,  fair  stretch  the  upland 

meads, 
Silence  and  sacred  calm  upon  your  heads. 


GIVEN   IN   SLEEP.  57 


GIVEN    IN    SLEEP. 

THEY  whispered  low  about  the  shadowed 

bed, 
"  She  soon  must  cross  the  fearful  stream," 

they  said. 
And  I  ?     Swift  ran  my  thoughts  to  that 

dread  verge, 
My  troubled  thoughts — such  thoughts  as 

quickly  merge 
In    dreamful    sleep. — I    hear    the    river's 

surge, 

I  stand  upon  its  bank,  and  stand  alone. 
Chill  creeps  the  white  mist,  and  a  far  wind's 

moan 
Sweeps  through   the   cypress  trees.     But 

what  to  me 
The  creeping  mist,  the  wind,  or  that  dull 

sea 
That  sobs  and  surges  ?     For  insistently 


58  GIVEN   IN   SLEEP. 

A  deathlier  chill,  a  deadlier  fear  oppress,— 
A  palsying  weight  of  sin,  of  faithlessness. 
u  How  can  I  come,"  I  said,  "  before  His 

face 
Whose    love   I   slighted,   half   forgot    His 

grace, 
Doubted   and   feared,   nor   fitly   cared   to 

praise  ? 

Horror  of  darkness  ?     Terror  deeper  far 
The  shuddering  soul  beyond  the  glance  of 

star 
Or  sun,  or  lamp   of  heaven-lit   faith  can 

know. 
Sad  unfamiliar  stream?     Chill  winds  that 

blow  ? 
It  is  my  sins  that  freeze  my  soul  with  woe. 

It    is    my   doubts    tumultuous    rage    and 

swell, — 
Ungenerous  fears.     How  can  I  cross  and 

dwell— 


GIVEN   IN    SLEEP.  59 

Cross  that  wild    torrent    of  mistake   and 

wrong — 
It  deepens,  widens,  grows  more  fierce,  more 

strong,— 
And  dwell  the  happy,  pardoned  souls 

among?" 

Then  still  uprose  upon  the  further  brim, 

Yet  near,  a  form.  Who  shall  those  features 
limn, 

Or  mar  with  word  or  breath  that  gracious 
sight  ? 

What  tongue  can  speak  that  sweet,  com 
pelling  might  ? 

What  speech  but  silence  pure  be  worship 
fight  ? 

He  stood, — the  Christ  !     God's  love  made 

manifest  ! 
And  I  had  doubted  Him !  within  my 

breast 


60  GIVEN   IN   SLEEP. 

Let  creep  unfaith  and  fears.     Swift  rose 

my  prayer, 
My  worldless  prayer,  (He  read  the  soul 

laid  bare 
And  caught  the  thought  or  ere  it  cleft  the 

air,)— 


"  But,  Lord,  I  cannot  come.  My  sins  di 
vide. 

How  can  I  forth  upon  this  rushing  tide 

Of  my  own  terrors,  doubts  and  sinful 
fear?" 

He  spake  no  word.  But  in  the  dimness 
drear 

He  opened  forth  His  arms. — Lo,  heaven 
was  here  ! 


Upon  the  sea  of  terror,  doubt  and  sin 
Instant     I     flung     myself,    and     plunged 
within, 


GIVEN   IN   SLEEP.  6l 

The  waves  forgotten.     "  Lord,"  my  spirit 

cried, 
"  No  power  can  keep  me  from  Thee,  naught 

divide. 
Through  floods  of  doubt  and  sin  I'll  reach 

Thy  side." 

The  vision  passed.  Was  it  not  gracious 
sent  ? 

And  when  once  more  my  slow  steps  earth 
ward  bent 

Its  sweetness  lingered.  Can  I  know  doubt 
more, 

Distrust  or  fear?  Upon  the  dark  stream's 
shore 

He  stands,  He  waits,  He  blesses  evermore. 


62          FROM   ONE   WHO   WENT  AWAY. 


FROM    ONE    WHO    WENT    AWAY 
IN    HASTE. 

SWEET  friends,  I  could  not  speak  before  I 

went, 

We  could  not  wait — the  messenger  and  I, 
Will  you  guess  all  ?— with  love's  clear  vis 
ion  bent 
On  that  poor  past,  with  eyes  that  search 

the  sky  ? 
Some   things   I   would   have  done,   some 

words  have  said  ; 
Swift  had  my  feet  on  those  last  errands 

run. 
Once  more   I  would  have   said,  "  I   love 

you," — plead 

Once  more  forgiveness  for  the  good  un 
done. 


FROM   ONE  WHO   WENT   AWAY.        63 

And  do  I  hear  a  whisper,  "  Ah,  forgive, 
Forgive  us  any  tenderness  forgot  "  ? 

Hush,  dearest  pleader,  where  to-day  1  live 
Love's   depth    drowns   all ;    the   things 
that  were  are  not. 

Of  all  the  wondrous  tale  anon  we'll  talk, 

And  on  some  sunny  hight  together  walk. 


64  FOREVER. 


FOREVER. 

LIKE  the  lark  through  deeps  of  sky, 
Will  the  soul  bound  on,  and  fly 
Earth-lost,  toward  God  forever? 

In  fullness  which  thirsts  for  more, 
Research  which  is  richest  lore, 
In  rest  which  is  still  endeavor? 

Oh,  love,  more  wide,  more  deep, 
As  ages  their  watches  keep  ! 
Oh,  power  that  lures  us  ever  ! 

Faith  growing  strong  through  sight, 
Hope  shining  still  more  bright  ! 
Is  this  Thy  heaven,  great  Giver  ? 


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